Commentary on Mark 7:24-37

Today’s Gospel reading is a tale of two healings (Mark 7:24–30 and 7:31–37).  

Jesus is on the move again, in the region of Tyre. He enters a house, hoping to be undetected. The first healing recipient is the nameless daughter of a persistent mother, a mother who will not be dissuaded. The second healing recipient is the nameless acquaintance of “they,” who beg Jesus to touch the man who is deaf with a speech impediment. In both narratives we get the sense of desperation and deep need. There is no question of Jesus’ capability to heal, but will Jesus heal?

While I workshopped this text with a group of pastors, they expressed their discomfort with the passage, specifically Jesus’ words. One pastor said, “I’m so distracted by Jesus’ exchange with the woman, I forgot that her daughter does receive healing. The story does end well.” More often than not, it is the reverse—we skip over the disturbing words so we can get to the happy ending. But the tension of the text is in the details.

The contrast in the healings is what Jesus says to the mother who entreats for her daughter, versus what Jesus does to the man brought by nameless neighbors. In the first case, the mother approaches Jesus at a time when he did not want to be noticed. He wanted to hide, and she shows up with a pressing need. It is healthy for the sake of ministry to seek alone time for refreshment, rejuvenation, and relaxation. Perhaps Jesus needed a moment. But somehow, she is made aware of his presence. The author carefully identifies her by her ethnicity, a Gentile of Syrophoenician origin (Canaanite, in Matthew 15). The reader must ask: What is Mark getting at here? Jesus is in Gentile territory.  

She bows before him and begs on behalf of her daughter. Despite efforts by preachers and interpreters to tidy up Jesus’ response to the woman, the text says what it says: He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Some interpreters suggest that “dogs” is better translated as “puppies” or that it was common for Gentiles to be referred to as dogs. Neither of these explanations is sufficient to navigate the harsh refusal in Jesus’ words. The dehumanizing metaphor is jarring to many contemporary readers. We prefer to read past it to the happy ending.

The use of “dogs” to refer to this woman (and her community) recalls the derogatory terms used to describe Black women in modern society. Vice President Kamala Harris, former First Lady Michelle Obama, tennis extraordinaire Serena Williams, and Presidential advisor Valerie Jarrett are but a few women who have been publicly maligned with harmful language. These critiques target individuals, yet function to denigrate persons of African descent as a whole. To justify Jesus’ language makes room to justify comments and behaviors toward certain people-groups that today are misogynistic and, in some cases, xenophobic and racist. The metaphor is less than affirming in context, and even more so contemporarily.

And the woman talks back. In Matthew’s telling it is the woman’s faith to which Jesus responds, even as the disciples urge him to send her away. But in Mark’s telling, there are no disciples (visible) and Jesus responds to her words, not her faith: “For saying that you may go—the demon has left your daughter” (verse 29). It is her faith-full talk back that moves Jesus. She dares to speak on behalf of her people, to the “Lord” whom she knows can change her daughter’s situation. Jesus’ ministry of inclusivity is made visible when she talks back.

Many Christian ethicists tend to emphasize Jesus’ acceptance of those outside his ethnic group, rather than the details of this riposte. Feminist scholar Elaine Wainwright remarks, “The woman’s great faith makes possible a life free of oppressive restrictions for herself and for her daughter. The subversive power of this story goes far beyond the traditional boundary breaking.” Even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs. She will not be denied.

The details of the second healing account are quite different. Rather than peeping in on a conversation, we witness a series of actions with minimal words. Jesus has traveled to the region of Decapolis. There, some people bring a man who is deaf with limited speaking ability.  Apparently, Jesus is no longer hiding from the crowd.  

They beg Jesus to touch the man, and Jesus responds. Jesus takes him away from the crowd, puts his fingers in the man’s ears, spits, and touches the man’s tongue. He looks up to heaven and says, translated, “Be opened.” Immediately, he is healed, and Jesus issues a gag order that is ignored. “Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one, but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it” (verse 36). Can we blame them?! This was news worth telling!

The active physical engagement of Jesus with this man is such a contrast to the previous healing account. Yes, the daughter is healed, as is the man, but the pathways to their healing look different. Perhaps that is the point—the life of faith is not homogenous; every journey is distinct. At times it may look and feel unfair, unbalanced, even unjust. When we are tempted to compare our story with the stories of others, Psalm 146 helps shift our attention:

¹ Praise the LORD! Praise the LORD, O my soul!
² I will praise the LORD as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God all my life long.
³ Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is no help. …
⁹ The LORD watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.
¹⁰ The LORD will reign forever, your God, O Zion, for all generations. Praise the LORD!

References

Allen, Ronald J., Dale P. Andrews, and Dawn Ottoni Wilhelm, eds. Preaching God’s Transforming Justice: A Lectionary Commentary, Year B. 1st ed. Louisville, Ky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011.

Avalos, Hector. The Bad Jesus: The Ethics of New Testament Ethics. The Bible in the Modern World 68. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2015.

Schussler Fiorenza, Elizabeth. Searching the Scriptures. Vol. 2. Herder & Herder, 1997.